Lock, Stock, and Feral Addison Moore (beginner reading books for adults TXT) 📖

Macy moans again as she takes another bite. “Mmmwatisinheremm?” she garbles out the word and I simply shoot her a short-lived smile.

“I’m Macy’s sister,” I fess up. “I work clubs like this once in a while because the tips are so good.” The lie spills from me effortlessly.

“Oh, here.” He leans over and quickly produces a wad of bills. “That was rude of me. Thank you.” He shoves the money into my hand before I can protest.

“Wow, thank you,” I say as I tuck the small wad into the pocket of my apron.

“Take this, too.” He slides the banana pudding my way.

“I’m pretty sure the kitchen staff will toss it,” I say. “The kitchen has a strict no regifting food policy.” That would be the kitchen at the Country Cottage Café, but James doesn’t need to know that.

“In that case, why don’t you help yourself? I hate to see food go to waste. I grew up with a single mom and she taught us waste not, want not.”

“Well, if you insist,” I say, digging the spoon a notch deeper before indulging in a bite myself and oh my—

I see stars—heck, I can hear “The Star-Spangled Banner” playing in my head.

“Oh, geez!” I give a hard moan. “This is fantastic.” I look over at Macy and she gives a frenetic nod. “I’m going to have to get the recipe.” I glance over at James. “I work at the Country Cottage Inn as well. They’re pretty much known for their delicious desserts.”

“The inn over in Cider Cove?” He straightens in his seat. “You weren’t there the night of the book signing last week, were you?”

“The night that man dropped dead?” I tip my ear his way. “Sure was. How about you?” I wouldn’t have left it so open-ended if I thought he might try to lie about it, but there’s an inherent honesty about him.

I should lie. He frowns down at the table. “Yup. I was there. That was my boss, the man who passed away.”

“Patterson Higgins?” I feign shock. “I mean, he had such a memorable name, I couldn’t forget it.”

“That was him.” His chest puffs up a moment. “He was decent guy. Had some quirks. Had a publishing house, that’s where I’m at right now.” Lord knows I should cut and run, but I’d hate to leave the place in disarray. I should have cut and run a long time ago.

“What’s going to happen to the publishing house?”

“I have no idea. I’m in talks with the city to see if they can help me figure out what to do. It might take a court order and some legal counsel, but I think the authors can receive what funds are due to them and I’m assuming they’ll get their publishing rights back.” Not that there’s anything due to those poor schmucks.

Did he just call the authors poor schmucks?

“Was Patterson a successful publisher?” I shake my head as if I already know the answer.

He winces. “He was. If you count his profit as a marker for success, you could say he was a very successful publisher. The authors didn’t fare so well, but as Patterson used to say, ‘It’s just the luck of the draw.’” And a slim to nothing advertising budget.

Slim to nothing advertising budget…

“A friend of mine is a writer. She’s shopping her novel right now. Regency romance.” It takes everything in me not to gag.

“Romance—that’s what keeps the publishing wheels spinning.” He gives a wistful shake of the head. “I’d say sixty percent of what we sell at Higgins House is romance.”

“Oh? What’s your role there?” I ask as Macy’s eyeballs roll into the back of her head and she lets out another hearty moan.

This girl. James gives a sly grin her way before reverting his attention back to me. I’d better play nice with the sister.

He leans back in his seat. “I’m the communications manager. And believe me, I’ve spent the last week doing a heck of a lot of communicating. But the authors all seem to understand. There are about six hundred authors as it stands, so I sent off a mass email. Some wrote back and asked about rights, so I had to henpeck my way through those while responding. It’s all up in the air, but everyone is being as understanding as can be.” Here’s hoping I can transfer the title to the company to myself. I asked Pat a year ago if I could be a full-fledged partner, but he balked at the idea. But I’d like to think he’d be happy with the outcome. He sheds a quiet laugh. He should have listened to me a year ago, and if he did, he might be alive today.

Might be alive today?

“I’m glad they were so understanding,” I say. “Did Patterson have any disgruntled clients?”

A loud yelp of a laugh bursts from him. “About six hundred of them.” He chuckles as he downs the rest of his soda. “Let’s just say Patterson was good at one thing and one thing only, making promises.”

“So he had a lot of irate clients?” The buzz starts to build at the table once again as the seats fill in, and it looks as if the seventh-inning stretch is just about over. “Did you know that the sheriff’s department thinks Patterson was murdered?”

“Oh yeah.” He gives a quick glance around. “I had the lead homicide detective come by the publishing house office earlier. Decent guy, nosy as hell, but I guess that’s his job. He let me know someone spiked Patterson’s drink.”

So much for having inside intel just because I’m sleeping with the lead homicide detective. Jasper made no mention of the fact he was going to speak with James.

“Yup.” He nods. “For all I know, he could still be at the office.” He checks his phone.

He’s at the publishing house office! That means I could be at the publishing house office.

James nods. “I let him look at the company